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Father says it will come in time. “Time heals,” he says. I don’t tell him that I don’t know what time is.

Mary E. Pearson

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Mary E. Pearson
Age: 69
Born: 1955
Born: August 14
Teacher
Writer
SoCal
Mary E. Pearson
M.E. Pearson
Time
Heals
Heal
Says
Father
Tell
Come

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Multiple closets for different needs. Overkill.
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I created an icicle sculpture in the snow. White on white.
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I wonder at the weight of a Sparrow.
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On a small planet, where minute follows minute, day follows day, year follows year, where tradition marches on with a deafening, orderly beat -sometimes the order is disturbed by a dreamer, an artist, a scribbler - sometimes the beat is changed one person at a time.
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He believes me. But that is nothing new. He always did because I was a rule follower. I played by the rules he understood. But there are new rules now, ones he doesn't know yet. He'll learn. Just as I'm learning.
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My timing is off. But I had to get it out. Some things you have to tell, no matter how stupid they may sound. Some things you can't save for later. There might not be a later.
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it is amazin, she thinks, how simple appearances can be created - a rush, a smile, a new coat of paint, a slow, calm voice, a hug, a new dress - a resolve to keep out questions and cling to secrets
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I don't want five hundred billion neural chips. I want guts.
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I used to be someone.
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I still cry on waking. I'm not sure why. I feel nothing. Nothing I can name, anyway. It's like breathing - something that happens over which I have no control. (6)
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Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.
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When your life has had few events to occupy it, it's amazing how a simple encounter can seem like an entire three-act play.
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One small changed family doesn't calculate into a world that has been spinning for a billion years. But one small change makes the world spin differently in a billion ways for one family.
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It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.
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A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .
Mary E. Pearson
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Percentages! Those are for economists, polls, and politicians. Percentages can't define your identity.
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... Change doesn't happen overnight-it's molded by people who don't give up
Mary E. Pearson
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Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop.
Mary E. Pearson
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But I am more than a name. More than they tell me
Mary E. Pearson
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There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you.
Mary E. Pearson